Commutative Property
by The Plaid Slytherin
Summary: Jack/John Smith Jack/Ten . While on holiday, Jack runs into the Doctor... only it isn't exactly him. Now, Jack must reconcile his growing feelings for John Smith with the world's need for the Doctor. Thanks to LadyChi for the beta!
1. Chapter 1

Jack didn't think he was really cut out for vacations. He was beginning to regret listening to Gwen when she'd told him to take one.

There were too many people. Loud, happy people, when all Jack wanted was to be alone someplace quiet.

He scanned the shoreline. It was the beginning of August, the most crowded time of year for the seaside. The beach was packed with people and none of them were the type Jack wanted to get to know.

It was still too soon, he realized, even though it had been months. Four months since Ianto, just twice that since Owen and Tosh.

Really, he needed a drink. He never drank, but the past few months had been enough to inspire him to do so. It was hard enough dealing with the loss of three teammates–three _good_ teammates, but there were also new people to deal with. Martha had been helping them, but she would have to return to her regular job soon. It had been both her and Gwen, really, who had suggested he take this trip before Martha left.

He hadn't wanted to be away from the Hub at first, but they had convinced him. Tosh had done a lot to improve the rift monitors before she'd died, and Gwen and Martha had convinced him that they could look after things themselves. "It'll be good training," said Gwen, when she'd put him on the train. "The new guys have got to learn somehow, right?"

He had grudgingly agreed that yes, she was right, hugged her good-bye and then he'd been off, watching her wave from the platform until the train was out of sight.

Jack stared down at his feet. He wasn't used to sandals. Martha had insisted on them–she said you couldn't take a proper beach holiday without them. Apparently, you couldn't take a proper beach holiday without shorts and a loud shirt either. She'd insisted on those, too.

He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. He didn't feel quite like braving the beach yet. He did need a drink, but maybe not a particularly potent one. He was just thirsty–a smoothie sounded good right about now. He'd seen a café near the hotel; maybe they could make him one.

**

The café was thankfully not crowded, so Jack took a seat at the bar and ordered. He was alone in the place except for a man at a table whose face was buried in a financial paper. Jack leaned back on his stool and stared at the ceiling fan–he knew in his head that this should be a nice vacation, but this was only the first day and he was already looking forward to the fortnight being over. Maybe he should just go home–call Gwen and see if she and Rhys would like his room. They deserved a beach holiday, too.

"Twenty-seven? Banana smoothie?"

That was his order. He reached for the glass and his fingers brushed someone else's. He looked up and froze.

"Doctor?" he asked in amazement. "What are you doing here?"

The Doctor blinked in confusion. "Sorry, do I know you?" He looked at the receipt in his hand. "I'm twenty-seven. This is mine." He picked Jack's crumpled receipt off the countertop and unfolded it. "You're twenty-eight, see? Oh, there's yours!" The boy behind the counter placed another tall glass in front of Jack.

Jack stared at the Doctor. Was he joking? This was a bit sustained for a Doctor joke, and his eyes really seemed to hold no glimmer of recognition. "You don't recognize me?" he asked tentatively.

"No, should I?" The Doctor sucked at his smoothie through his straw in a fashion that was really quite distracting. No. Jack snapped his mind back to the situation at hand. Something was definitely wrong. This was the Doctor, he was certain of it; he'd recognize that man anywhere. The problem was that he didn't seem to recognize Jack. He decided to stay and talk to him. If the Doctor was really in trouble, Jack would try to get him back to the Hub so they could work something out.

The Doctor was still staring at him curiously. "Now that I think about it, you do seem a bit familiar… Are you on the telly?" He looked around. "Is this one of those hidden camera shows? No, no, wait… have you read my articles? Have you really read my articles?" He looked pleased.

Jack stared.

"Or maybe…" He paused, head cocked. "No. No. It can't be." He took a seat next to Jack at the bar.

"What?" Jack took a sip of his own smoothie.

The Doctor shook his head. "Nothing, really. Just… nothing." He looked down at his drink for a moment, and then said suddenly, "I'm sorry, I haven't introduced myself! I'm John Smith. _Doctor_ John Smith. Mathematician." He reached out and shook Jack's hand.

Jack opened his mouth but no sound came out.

"Charmed, I'm sure," said the Doctor. He was doing that sucking thing again. "And you are?"

Jack forced himself to speak. "Captain Jack Harkness. I'm Captain Jack Harkness."

"Oh, a captain!" The Doctor grinned. "Are you on leave?"

"You could say that." Jack took a gulp of his smoothie and wished it was something stronger.

**

This John Smith seemed to be an interesting guy, despite his unfortunate willingness to pair socks with sandals. He was a mathematician, working on a very difficult proof and he was talking to Jack as if he understood everything he'd written about in his journal articles. Jack understood a bit of it–this century's advanced mathematics had been basic by his time, so he was able to nod along, which just made the Doctor even more excited.

Jack hadn't noticed they'd been sitting there talking for so long until they were each on their third smoothie. The Doctor drained his glass and stood up. "I was going to take a walk, build up an appetite before dinner," he said, smiling pleasantly. "Would you like to join me?"

Jack stared.

"On the beach?" the Doctor continued, looking a bit nervous. "A walk on the beach." He stuck his hands in the pockets of his shorts. "Just to get some air, and well, I'm sort of alone and I'd like the company."

"Sure," said Jack, standing. He didn't want the Doctor to get too far away from him in the state that he was in. He was still wracking his brain, trying to come up with a reason why the Doctor would have lost his memories. "Let me just make a phone call first." Martha would know what to do.

He ducked into an alcove by the men's room and pulled out his cell phone, calling up Martha's number almost automatically. She answered on the first ring.

"Jack!" she cried. "How are you?" She seemed to be making no effort to hide the fact that she'd been worried about him; he imagined her motioning Gwen over and the two women huddled over the phone's earpiece.

"I'm fine," said Jack, keeping his voice low, watching the Doctor. He was examining one of the potted plants by the door as if it were the most fascinating thing in the world. He looked much more relaxed than Jack had ever seen him. He pulled a pen out of his shirt pocket and lifted one of the leaves, studying it. "Listen, there's something I've got to tell you."

"What?" asked Martha, sounding interested.

"Um…" Suddenly it occurred to Jack what must have happened. It was the chameleon arch. Just as the Master had hidden his Time Lord self away in the fob watch to escape the Time War, the Doctor must have encountered some enemy that he needed to hide from. If that was the case, the thing to do was to keep him from regaining his memories until it was safe.

"What have you got to tell me, Jack?" Martha pressed.

"Oh." Jack looked around. Did he even have to tell her? The human Doctor looked so… innocent. So vulnerable. He needed someone to look after him, but Jack was certainly capable of doing that. He'd keep an eye on him, ascertain the threat and nudge him back toward his Time Lord self when it was safe. He didn't need to tell Martha this had even happened. It would give her one less thing to worry about, for one. As long as he knew what the Doctor was up to, everything would be okay. "I just wanted to tell you what nice weather I've had," he said lamely. "Gwen was saying it might rain."

"Oh, that's good." Martha sounded relieved. "You enjoy your good weather. Everything's fine here. Gwen and Mickey say hi."

"Well, give them my love." Jack's attention was still on the Doctor, who was now intrigued by a statue by the door. "I think I'll hit the beach."

"Have fun!" said Martha cheerfully. "Give us a ring if you're feeling lonely."

Jack assured her he would and signed off. "Everything okay?" the Doctor asked.

"Oh, yeah," said Jack. "Just checking in with some friends. They were the one who told me to take this trip."

"Busy time?" the Doctor asked as he led the way back out onto the street.

"I guess," said Jack. He paused, suddenly getting a little thrill of possibility. The Doctor didn't know him. He could say anything, really, and the Doctor wouldn't know any better. "Actually, I'm sort of trying to decide what to do now. Doing a lot of thinking."

"Ah!" The Doctor nodded. "Thinking is good. So, you're not with the military?"

"Oh, no actually…" Jack searched the recesses of his brain for something else that might use a captain. "I'm a policeman. Detective."

The Doctor raised an eyebrow. "Interesting! I think…" He frowned. "I think I always wanted to be a policeman. But, well." He flexed his arm. "Not really built for it."

Jack smiled. This was decidedly odd, making small talk with the Doctor. Though he wasn't really the Doctor, was he? This was a man who looked uncannily like him, yes, but this was not the Doctor. He didn't know who Jack was; there was none of the history between them. Yes, he thought. There was none of the history between them. He looked at the Doctor out of the corner of his eye, trying not to be caught staring.

No history meant a clean slate…

Jack shook his head. He couldn't get close to John Smith. He had to keep an eye on him for the Doctor's sake.

"Tell me about your work, Captain," said the Doctor. He was smiling at Jack in a way that made it hard for him to form sentences.

"Jack, please," he insisted weakly.

"Then I insist that you call me John!"

"All right." Jack frowned. It was weird to think of the Doctor as John. "I'm a detective–homicide in Cardiff." The lie (embellishment?) came easily, but he still kept looking at John for signs of suspicion or recognition.

As they talked, Jack found that he quite lost track of time. He still wasn't used to seeing the Doctor look so... happy. Of course, his usual manner was cheerful and carefree, but John Smith was truly happy–it was as if a great weight had been lifted from his shoulders. He looked freer, younger. Jack was finding that he liked it. He even noticed himself loosening up, laughing more, as they talked.

They talked about everything. Jack was afraid they would run out of subjects, but John seemed to keep coming up with new ones: art, history, music.

They had walked quite a long way on the beach and people were starting to leave. The sun was just beginning to go down, turning the sky and the sea below it a mix of blues, reds and purples.

"Dust particles in the air," said John, stopping. "Isn't it amazing?" He looked at Jack, his eyes bright. "It's just dust particles in the air, but it's so beautiful."

Jack nodded and turned his attention back to the sunset, though he kept one eye on John.

"Tell me, Jack," said John suddenly. "Why are you here alone?"

Jack jumped. "Oh… well, my friend–colleague–she said I could use a vacation." He ran a hand through his hair. "A lot's happened lately. I think she thinks I'm not dealing with it well."

John nodded. "I'm just here for pleasure–don't really have anyone to travel with." He looked down at his feet.

"Me neither," said Jack quickly. "I… there's no one. Anymore."

They both stood there in silence, watching the sun's slow progress toward the horizon.

"We should have dinner," said John abruptly. "You and me. Dinner. Together. We should have it." He didn't look at Jack when he said this.

Jack froze. Was there some code this was breaking? The don't-go-on-dates-with-friends-when-they've-lost-their-memories-of-you code? Or maybe it wasn't even a date and he was just getting ahead of himself. This _was_ the Doctor after all.

"Sure," he heard himself say. "That would be great."

John beamed. "Brilliant." He grinned. "I'll meet you at eight. There was a place across the street from that café. Seafood." He stuck his hands in his pockets and looked out over the ocean. "I like seafood."

**

Jack was into the sixteenth minute of his pre-dinner shower when he reminded himself for the sixteenth time that this wasn't a date. This really wasn't a date. It _couldn't_ be a date. This was the _Doctor_. He shut off the water. Maybe he _should_ have told Martha about the Doctor. He could still call her, he supposed. He wrapped a towel around his waist and headed into the bedroom to get his phone.

When he called, he got Martha's voicemail. He briefly debated leaving a message telling her what had happened, but he decided it would be easier to tell her in person, so he simply left a message telling her to call him back and hung up.

He had to get dressed. He'd probably need to wear a jacket, had he even packed one? Jack tossed his phone onto the bed and began digging through his suitcase. He hadn't expected to go anywhere where he might need to dress up; he had packed somewhat haphazardly. There was one, thankfully. He paired it with his least-wrinkled shirt. He'd have to go tieless, but maybe that wasn't bad, it sort of fit the beach atmosphere.

He caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror and smirked. If this wasn't a date, it was almost a waste–he didn't look half bad.

The restaurant was not crowded and he spotted John easily, at a table by the window.

"I ordered us a bottle of wine," he said as Jack sat down across from him. "I hope that's all right."

"Fine with me," said Jack, hoping to distract himself with the menu. The questions from earlier were still weighing on his mind. He felt guilty that he couldn't be honest with John, but he also realized that everything John was telling him–about his parents' occupations and his lifelong dreams–was a lie, too. John just didn't know it. He really would call Martha after dinner. This was much too complicated.

"Penny for your thoughts?"

Jack's head jerked up. John was smiling at him, in a way that filled Jack with warmth. So he was attracted to John. That was no surprise. He was attracted to the Doctor, and they had the same body, were the same person. No. Not the same person. John and the Doctor were _not_ the same person.

"Jack, are you all right?" John looked concerned.

"Yeah, I'm fine." Jack took a tentative sip of his wine. "Just thinking." He shook his head. "Sorry, I've just had a rough time of it lately."

John nodded. "Even if you don't want to talk about it…" He reached over and laid a hand on Jack's arm. "I've found that just being with a friend can help. Sometimes." He gave Jack a warm smile and then withdrew his hand. "What are you thinking about ordering? I quite like the looks of this tilapia."

Jack finally settled on salmon, though he barely tasted it. He kept watching John, trying to gauge his intentions. If he really was… interested in Jack… well, he supposed it was easier to keep an eye on the Doctor if he was going to do this with Jack than with someone else. Though really, he knew it was wrong.

This may not have been the Doctor, but the Doctor would remember everything John Smith did and if Jack got too close to John, then it would just be awkward later with the Doctor.

John seemed to notice that Jack seemed more subdued. He continued trying to be cheerful, but Jack detected a trace of hurt in his eyes. He was glad when dinner was over. They walked in silence down the street away from the restaurant. They'd split the bill, even though John had, at first, insisted on paying and had kept touching Jack's arm. He was getting chills just remembering it.

They were headed vaguely in the direction of John's hotel, Jack realized. He tried to ignore the feelings of trepidation. He needed to stay with John, to prevent his getting in trouble, but he didn't trust himself to go upstairs with him, if he asked him. He needed to come up with something else.

"Do you have plans for tomorrow yet?" he asked.

John blinked. "Well, no, I didn't. Do you?" He looked disappointed.

"There's an art museum nearby I wanted to visit. Do you like art?"

John's face brightened. "As it happens, I do like art! Quite a bit. Would you like to go?"

Jack grinned. "That's what I was asking you."

They made plans to get together the following morning, in the same café where they had met. Jack was feeling quite optimistic as he returned to his room. Martha hadn't returned his call, but she was probably busy. Jack was doing fine on his own. He definitely had the situation under control.


	2. Chapter 2

The day at the museum went quite well in Jack's estimation. He had finally concluded that John was definitely interested in him. It wasn't that Jack didn't like the attention -- there was actually something he privately enjoyed about seeing the Doctor's body flirting with him, even if it wasn't the man himself in control of it. It was the knowledge that there was nothing he could do about it that was frustrating. And yet, he hated seeing the Doctor's -- John's features slack in disappointment every time Jack did not respond to his subtle advances.

Well, he supposed, it wouldn't hurt to respond a little. He didn't want to hurt the man; he needed to at least be his friend. He wondered how long the Doctor had been hiding and when it would be safe for him to come out.

"How long have you been here?" he asked casually.

"Three days," replied John. "And I'm going to stay four more -- a week's holiday."

"So, you took the train over, or what?"

"Yes," said John, nodding. "From London–that's where I live. I've got a flat there. It's in a nice neighborhood, I quite like it. My favorite place I ever lived. It used to be an old house. I like old things."

"Me too," agreed Jack. So, he supposed that was a real memory -- the TARDIS was probably in London, then. "I'm here two weeks. I got here yesterday."

John nodded, as if filing this information away for later. "This is a lovely piece," he remarked, pointing at the painting they were now standing in front of. It just looked like a bunch of lines to Jack. "It's all mathematics, really," John was saying. "It's just planes and angles."

Jack's mind was racing. If the TARDIS was in London, he really did need to tell Martha what had happened. With no one to keep him near the TARDIS, he had traveled as a human. That was even more dangerous.

"It's actually quite like what I'm working on," said John. "The Greeks, you see, they knew everything. Euclid in particular."

All Jack knew of Euclid was that he had been Greek. "Like what?" he asked.

John seated himself on a bench opposite the painting. He patted the seat next to him to indicate that Jack should sit beside him.

"Euclid was brilliant," he said, as Jack sat down. "He knew of the commutative property, you know?"

"What's that?"

"It's extremely basic -- you probably learned it in primary school, even if you didn't get the name. It means that when you're doing multiplication or addition, the order doesn't matter. Any combination gets you the same outcome. Two plus nine over here makes eleven, same as nine plus two makes eleven." His knee was resting casually against Jack's. "No matter what form it's in, it's still the same."

"So, you study Euclid?"

"Oh, yes, I've written a book about him. It's fascinating how much the ancients knew. I would have liked to see him–it sounds silly I know."

"What?"

"Well," John turned to look at him, leaned in close and conspiratorially. "Sometimes I dream–totally unconsciously, mind you, just dreams–that I've gone back in time. There I am, in Pompeii or someplace." He laughed. "Isn't that funny?"

Jack grinned. "Maybe one day you'll meet Euclid. In your dreams."

"Yes, that would be nice, wouldn't it?" John stood up. "I always thought people who had recurring dreams were making them up."

Jack stood up too. "So you've dreamed this before?"

"It's only started recently." He led them toward a sculpture in the middle of the room. "See, that–that's just Platonic solids. And they call it modern art." He chuckled. "It's as old as anything."

"When did these dreams start?" Jack pressed.

John looked surprised. "Oh, I don't know." He ran a hand through his hair. "Maybe a week ago? I've been having a lot of stress. That's why I decided to take a vacation. It was last minute, this trip. Just a bit of stress-relief."

Jack nodded. Maybe that meant he'd only been in hiding for a week. He wondered what had happened to make him decide he needed a vacation so soon after arriving in this time.

"Do you want to get dinner?" he asked, hating the way his voice shook.

John grinned. "We're getting quite attached, you and me! Sure. Where do you want to go?"

John ended up selecting the restaurant, as he'd done more research–he actually had a guidebook, something Jack had neglected to get. (Or, really, Gwen had bought him one, but it was sitting unread on his desk back at the Hub.)

He led them to a small, intimate place. All the tables were booths and they were all separate from each other, giving the diners a good deal of privacy.

Jack enjoyed this night's dinner much more than the previous night's. Maybe it was because he liked Italian better than seafood, but he also felt more comfortable with John. He still knew scientifically that this was really the Doctor, but he also genuinely liked spending time with John Smith. He was clever and funny, and he seemed to like Jack too, which gave him a little thrill.

By the end of the meal, they were sitting as close together at the booth allowed. Their feet were touching under the table, and when John leaned forward to brush his knees against Jack's, he knew instantly that there was no turning back from this point. He could… he could tell the Doctor, when he came to his senses that he was just keeping an eye on him in whatever way possible. He swallowed hard. "Dessert?"

"We could split something." John pulled the dessert menu toward him. "The tiramisu looks good."

The tiramisu _was_ good. Jack didn't exactly consider himself a dessert connoisseur, but this was delicious, though, his opinion could have had something to do with the way their hands kept brushing, or the way John kept slowly licking his fork, sliding his tongue between the tines. It was incredibly distracting, that tongue, and it tugged Jack's stomach with desire.

"Did you have any plans for later this evening?" John asked.

Jack shook his head; his mouth had gone dry.

"Good." The corners of John's mouth lifted into a small smirk. "I was wondering if you'd like to come over to mine–if you're really interested in Euclid, I could show you some things." He signaled the waiter for the bill.

Jack set down his coffee and leaned forward. "I think I'm really interested in… Euclid."

**

John kissed him in the lift, rough and desperate at first, as if he'd been daring himself to do it for a long time. Jack was lost in the taste of him–espresso and something more, something he couldn't place. Their tongues met, and then retreated, a careful dance, a gentle persuasion. They barely noticed when the lift dinged and the doors opened. John broke the kiss with a grin and nodded down the hallway. Jack followed wordlessly.

"I've got to unlock the door," John said huskily, digging through his pockets to find his room key. "Then we can… then we can go in." He found it, swiped it quickly and led the way inside.

They stood there in silence for a few moments before John said, "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have–"

"No." Jack crossed the room and pulled him close. "Don't be sorry." He swallowed hard. He knew he had passed the point of no return… maybe the Doctor would remember that he had started it, that it hadn't been Jack's fault, but then, he was kissing John, was taking off his jacket and undoing his buttons and he could no longer say that it wasn't his fault.

"Are you sure?" John asked as he pushed him down onto the bed. He was sliding Jack's T-shirt up with one hand and undoing his trousers with the other.

"Positive," Jack whispered as John trailed kisses down his stomach, heading for the place Jack wanted his attention. It was hard for him to get the image of the Doctor out of his mind–this _was_ the Doctor, after all, even when it wasn't. Those were his hands, his lips, his tongue. If this was the wrong decision, so be it. He wanted this, and John did, too.

Over the past couple of days, it had become clear to him that John was his own person, separate from the Doctor, with his own habits, quirks and desires. John was interested in Jack and he returned those feelings. Who could fault him for that? John's tongue curled delightfully in the perfect spot, and Jack gave up on thinking at all.

**

Jack had forgotten what it was like to wake up with another person in the pale light of early morning. He remembered how much he liked the sensation of a warm body snuggled against his, and he especially liked the way John's long limbs entwined with his. He idly remembered that the Doctor wasn't supposed to be this warm.

The other man was still asleep, his head resting on Jack's chest, his hair tickling his chin. Jack shifted his arm, looping it around John, feeling the beat of the single heart in his chest. John stirred, but did not wake.

Suddenly, the enormity of what he had done hit him. What was he going to do now? When the Doctor changed back, he was going to remember Jack taking advantage of him. He closed his eyes. He had to do something.

Carefully, he extricated himself from John's embrace. John still didn't wake up. Maybe if he called Martha… where were his trousers? No, he definitely couldn't call Martha… maybe he just ought to go. He hated the idea of leaving John, didn't want him to have the experience of waking up and having Jack not be there, but maybe it was for the best. At the very least, if the Doctor remembered it, it was possible that he would not say anything if it stopped here. He carefully stepped into his trousers and went looking for his shirt.

His eyes were drawn to something glinting on the dresser. It was the fob watch. Tentatively, Jack picked it up. The Doctor wouldn't miss it, couldn't even see it. If he just held onto it until he could figure out what to do…

Jack stuck the watch in his pocket.

"Jack? What are you doing?"

Jack whirled. John was sitting up in bed, looking at him in confusion.

Jack looked down at himself, half-dressed. "I was just going to… bring you breakfast."

John smiled. "That's nice, but I'd really rather you stayed. We can get something later."

Jack pulled off his trousers again and climbed back into bed, calmly complying with John's wishes, despite the fact that his heart was racing. He knew he should have left, until he could get the situation under control, but the temptation was too much. He kissed John gently, pulling him close, and they lay there for several minutes, exchanging long, lazy kisses.

Suddenly, John pulled back and took a deep breath. "You know, this is going to sound mad."

Jack grinned, twining his fingers in John's hair. "Try me."

John smiled slowly. "I think I dreamed about you last night. You were traveling with me… back in time… far, far in the future." He paused. "The _really_ mad thing is, I think I've been dreaming about you for a while. Is that possible?"

"I don't know," said Jack. "Do you think it is?"

John frowned. "I'm _positive_ I dreamt about you before I met you. I swear!"

Jack nodded.

John slid closer to him and rested his head on Jack's chest. "What does that mean? Is it… is it destiny?"

Jack kissed the top of his head. "I don't know," he said honestly. "It could be coincidence."

John nodded. Finally, he said, "Is there a difference?"

Jack shrugged. "I don't know."

John looked up at him and smiled. "Then we'll find out together," he said, kissing him.

They ate from room-service that day, barely getting out of bed. Jack tried to ignore the niggling feeling of guilt in the pit of his stomach. He knew the world needed the Doctor, that he had to get him back to the TARDIS and get him his memories back. But this wonderful, brilliant man in his arms, with only one heart, was an entirely different person, and it wasn't fair to make John Smith give up his life so that the Doctor could exist. Was it?

**

Jack and John spent the next few days together. They found different museums to go to and they even spent some time on the beach. Jack savored the time he spent with John, whether they were browsing art galleries, wading in the surf or lying in bed. By the end of the week, Jack didn't want it to end.

One evening, the evening before John was to return to London, they were sitting on the balcony outside Jack's room, looking out at the sun setting over the ocean.

"Jack?" said John, breaking the peaceful silence.

"Hm?" Jack lifted his head from John's shoulder.

"I think I must be going mad–I've been thinking that rather a lot lately, but I'd really like to ask you something."

"Shoot."

"Come with me. Back to London."

Jack sat bolt upright. "You want me to come with you?"

"Only if you want to." John looked away. "I remember you said you had another week or so before you're expected back in Cardiff. I want to spend it with you, but I have to go back."

Jack looked at him open-mouthed.

"And you said you weren't sure what to do next, which made me wonder if… eventually… you might be interested in… well. Only if you want to, that is. I mean, I know this is fast, but I just was wondering, because I feel like we've got something… something good and–"

"I want to," Jack assured him. He paused. "Are you really sure you want me around?"

John smiled. "Jack, I feel so… connected to you. It's odd, but I somehow feel that I… that I know you. You feel so right to me." He took Jack's hand in his.

"Okay," said Jack quickly, not allowing his brain to stop him. "I'll come." He tried to force the watch in his pocket out of his mind. _Better to keep an eye on him_, he told himself.

John grinned and kissed him. "Brilliant."

**

Jack had always liked traveling by train–one of the things he had grown to like during his time in the twentieth century. Still, he was having trouble enjoying this particular train journey.

"Everything okay?" John asked, looking up from his book.

"Oh, I'm fine," said Jack, trying to smile. "Just thinking." He went back to looking out the window.

"Is everything all right at work?" John took off his glasses and looked at Jack seriously.

Jack shrugged. "Yeah. Just… it's a rough transition. We… lost some people a while back. It's been a tough adjustment. New people on the team, you know?"

John nodded. "You're taking a well-deserved break. That's good. I've always admired the work you people do. It's a thankless job."

Jack had almost forgotten what he'd told John he did for a living. "It's very rewarding," he said absently, watching the countryside fly by. How long was he going to keep this up? He'd have to remember exactly what he'd told John about his job. Now he knew how Gwen had felt when she'd been lying to Rhys.

"How are things going with _your_ work?" he asked John, in an attempt to change the subject.

John looked up from his book again. "I'm working on that proof; I wanted to get back and spend a few days on that–I've got this lecture to give next week. I'm sure you really don't care about that, though…"

Jack leaned forward. "Oh, I think it's really interesting." He gave John a toothy grin. John smiled

"Well, the fascinating thing about the Randall's Theory of Derivatives is…"

Jack leaned back in his seat. He could get used to this, just listening as that marvelous voice babbled on about who knew what. It was almost like traveling in the TARDIS, with one key difference–this man didn't have the weight of the universe on his shoulders, and Jack liked that.


	3. Chapter 3

It was early evening when they arrived at John's flat, a small place, with an air of slightly-dusty elegance. Jack loved it. They got Chinese take-away and ate it in the little-used kitchen. Jack noticed that the rest of the flat seemed oddly impersonal as well. He supposed the Doctor had been able to obtain a pre-furnished flat and that few of these things actually belonged to him.

"I'm not much of a cook," John explained, pointing to the food in front of them. "But this place is quite good -- they're getting to know me by name and I've only been here a few weeks."

Jack filed that away for later. He planned to go looking for the TARDIS in the morning. "Where'd you move from?" he asked conversationally. He wanted to get a feel for the back-story the chameleon arch had created for the Doctor. It might help for later when Gwen and Martha asked nosey questions. He had managed to avoid them thus far, but eventually they'd wonder about the mysterious "nice guy" he'd met on holiday.

John frowned. "Chiswick," he answered promptly. "I used to live in Chiswick. My father Robert was a teacher and my mother Barbara was a secretary." He recited this as if by rote. "Phil Collins was born in Chiswick, you know."

Jack nodded along. He decided not to press, to avoid having to make up a story for himself until he could think of a good one.

"This is a nice neighborhood," he said, indicating the area. "I think I'll go exploring tomorrow. I haven't spent much time in London lately."

"Good," said John. "I have work to do tomorrow. The proof I was taking a break from calls." He stood up and began to clear away the dishes. Jack placed a hand on his elbow.

"I'll get that later," he murmured in John's ear.

"Oh!" John set the dishes down and turned into Jack's arms. "This is much nicer, having you around," he added, as Jack pressed a kiss to his jaw line. "Quite a bit nicer."

**

The next day, John was up early -- he brewed divine tea -- and retreated to his study to work on his proof. Jack took this opportunity to get his bearings in the neighborhood and to go in search of the TARDIS.

It wasn't far, which didn't surprise him. It was parked in a disused alley, about four blocks from John's flat. He placed a wistful hand on the blue wooden door. At least it was all right. He pulled his old key out of his pocket and let himself in.

The TARDIS's interior lights were dimmed, but she hummed in recognition when Jack entered.

"Hello," he said softly, addressing the ship. "I've got him. I know where he is, and I'm taking care of him." He wasn't sure why he was talking to the TARDIS, but he supposed it needed some sort of reassurance about where the Doctor had gone. It also helped to fill the empty room with something; he didn't know how the Doctor could stand the sound of his own footsteps on the grating when no one was around "I'll bring him back soon," he added self-consciously, unsure of whether or not he was lying. He patted the console gently and the TARDIS hummed back.

Jack stuck his hands in his pockets and paced the console room. From what he could tell, everything seemed to be in order. The ship was sleeping, waiting for the Doctor to return. Jack's hand closed around the watch in his pocket. Would the Doctor return? He took the watch out and looked at it. It would be so easy to just open it, let the Doctor regain his memories… and then what? The Doctor would return to find Jack in the TARDIS, holding the watch?

Or, he could just _not_ open the watch. He had it. He could hold onto it and make sure it was never opened. He could leave it in the TARDIS, no one would ever find it. He sat down on the jump seat and set the watch on the console. He could leave it right there. Get up and walk out. The Doctor had always wanted a normal life. Now he could have one. Jack would let John Smith go on living.

The cell phone on the console began to ring.

Jack jumped. Since when did the Doctor have a phone?

He leaned over to look at it. The caller ID display read _Martha_. He supposed she had given it to him. He wondered if everything was all right. Maybe he ought to call her and see if anything was wrong. After all, if she needed the Doctor badly enough to call him…

He could take care of it.

Jack could take care of anything the Doctor could. He had everything in the TARDIS at his disposal. He shoved the watch back in his pocket and turned to go, the only sound in the empty ship the echo of the ringing phone.

**

Jack waited a few days to call Martha, so as not to look suspicious, but he watched the news on John's television obsessively. The universe wasn't ending, nor were there any reports of aliens destroying Cardiff. Plus, his little domestic adventure was going quite well. He felt better than he had in months

When he called casually, Martha didn't seem to indicate that anything was wrong, and even though he knew he couldn't outright ask her, it didn't even sound like she was hiding something. She sounded relieved to hear from him, but he chalked it up to her having become more cautious since her time with the Doctor. There was no reason for her to be worried about him.

He hung up with Martha just as he was arriving back at the flat with the shopping -- this wasn't really a conversation he wanted to have in front of John. Plus, the kitchen had badly needed restocking. He was wondering what he could cook for dinner (was he adventurous enough to try a stir fry?) as he fumbled for his key.

He knew something was wrong as soon as he realized the door was unlocked. John was an habitual door-locker, even if they were both home during the middle of the day.

Jack rushed into the flat. He found John sitting in the middle of the living room floor, just staring into space.

"Are you okay?" he asked gently, setting his bags down on the kitchen counter.

John didn't move.

"John?" Jack stepped forward and placed a hand tentatively on his shoulder. "What happened?"

"I'm going mad, Jack." John's voice was hoarse. Jack knelt beside him and put in arm around his shoulders, pulling him close. John resisted, pulling away stiffly. "I _am_ mad."

"You're not mad," said Jack quietly. His mind was racing. Something was wrong. Was the chameleon arch breaking down? "What happened?"

"They don't exist." John's voice shook painfully. "All the articles I thought I wrote. All the _books_ I thought I wrote. The lecture I'm supposed to give tomorrow. They don't exist." There were tears forming in his eyes.

"What do you mean?" Jack asked, even though he knew the answer.

"They don't exist! They just _don't_!" John buried his face in Jack's chest. "I don't know what's wrong with me."

Jack pulled him close and kissed his forehead, stroking his hair. "There's nothing wrong with you, John."

"But I looked, and looked and they're not where I thought they'd be. And then I looked them up in the computer and they just _don't exist_. _I_ don't exist."

"Shh…" Jack murmured soothingly. "Whatever happened, we'll figure it out." As he held John, he began making plans. He'd go back to the TARDIS and get the psychic paper. He could use it to prove to John that he existed, somehow -- it could show some sort of convincing documents. He closed his eyes, tightening his hold on the other man. "We'll work this out," he whispered, more to reassure himself than John.

**

The next few days were more subdued. The day Jack was supposed to return to Cardiff came and went. He kept his phone off; he knew Gwen and Martha must be trying to reach him, but he couldn't face them. He had to take care of John.

John seemed moderately convinced by the psychic paper, which Jack had gotten to show several official documents proving John's existence and various letters of recommendation from his university days. Despite this, John still didn't bounce back to his old enthusiastic self. He seemed to want to keep Jack extra-close, as if he was afraid of him leaving.

John's melancholy was due in part to his dreams, which were increasingly nightmarish. He kept waking in the middle of the night with dreams of things the Doctor had done. When he told them to Jack, he could place some of them -- the Time War, the Master, losing Rose and Donna.

"I dream I'm this awful, awful man," John said quietly one night as he huddled against Jack. "I've… killed. Many things. I'm a monster."

Jack kissed the top of his head. "You're not a monster," he murmured into his hair.

John was silent. "He's so lonely," he continued. "The man I am in my dreams."

"You've got me," offered Jack, tilting John's chin up to look him in the eyes. "I'm not going anywhere."

"But your job–"

"I'm going to resign from the force," Jack said quickly. "Find a job here and stay with you." The lie of the police detective seemed so odd and far away, as if he'd never really said it in the first place. It was easy enough to "quit" his job and find a new one here. He didn't want their relationship to be based on a lie. And John needed him.

John pressed a kiss to his forehead. "You don't have to do that," he said.

Jack grinned at him. "But I want to."

John's features broke into the first real eye-reaching smile he'd had in days. "Well, then! We should celebrate." He pushed Jack back against the mattress and climbed on top of him. "Let's go out tomorrow night. That Indian place by the Tesco maybe?"

Jack yanked him down on top of him and kissed him fiercely. "We could start tonight," he said with a grin.

"Ooh," said John as Jack's hands moved low. "Your way's better. Though I do like the Indian place. We could do both, I suppose..."

**

Every day, Jack put off calling Gwen to tell her he wouldn't be coming back. Partly, he was afraid of all the concerned messages that would be on his phone. Partly, he felt guilty -- both about leaving Torchwood and about making this decision to let the Doctor remain human permanent. But John was looking so happy this past week, much happier than Jack had ever seen the Doctor. After Jack had agreed to stay with him, he'd seemed to light up and was working furiously on that proof of his.

For his part, Jack was vigilantly watching for anything the Doctor would normally take care of and he had made it a regular ritual to check on the TARDIS when he was on his way home from the market.

It was on one such day that he was walking home from visiting the TARDIS, a job application for the Tesco in the next block tucked in his shopping bag, when he heard a loud booming.

His head jerked up. The sky was rapidly filling with ships, enormous, silver, ring-like craft which Jack didn't recognize, each appearing with a sonic boom that rattled the windows in the buildings around him. Cursing, he dropped his bags and sprinted the rest of the half-block to the flat.

"John!" he cried, as he flung open the door.

"What's going on?" John looked frantically at him. "Have you seen this?" He was pointing at the television, which had just broken in with the story. The rings seemed to be appearing simultaneously over the entire country; there were hundreds of them. "What are they?"

Jack's mouth was dry. "I don't know," he said quietly.

"I mean, I didn't really believe all that alien business -- at least, I don't think I did." He frowned. "I really can't remember... Christmas and all those incidents, but really... who believes in aliens?"

Jack grabbed his shoulders. "John, listen to me," he began gently. "I'm going to go out for a little while. And then I'll come right back, I promise." He kissed him quickly, then turned to go.

"Where are you going?" John's brows knit in confusion and he made to follow. "Don't go out there! We don't know if it's safe!" He grabbed Jack's sleeve. "Look, the government's telling people to stay in their homes!"

"Stay here," Jack ordered, wrenching his arm out of John's grasp. "I'll come right back, I swear. There's just something I need to take care of. I'm not leaving you." He kissed him again, and ran, afraid that if he looked back again he wouldn't be able to go.

When he got back outside, the ships didn't seem to have done anything. They were just up in the sky, hovering silently. Jack bolted for the TARDIS. There had to be something he could do. He tried not to think about how clueless he really was without the Doctor.

He threw open the door of the TARDIS and leapt inside. The light seemed dimmer than it had earlier that afternoon, but it could just have been his imagination. It still hummed to greet him, as though it were relieved to see him.

He ran for the Doctor's coat, which was still hanging on the support where he'd left it and pulled out the sonic screwdriver. Then, he moved to the monitor and tapped it gently. It blinked to life. Jack pointed the sonic screwdriver at it, willing it to tell him something useful. Unfortunately, the readout seemed to only be in Gallifreyan.

"Damn it!" he snapped, kicking the center column hard. "What's wrong with you?"

The TARDIS hummed back indignantly. Jack ran a hand through his hair. He'd have to do something else. He dropped onto the ground and lifted the grating; maybe the Doctor had something in there that would give him an idea. He found a length of rope, a trunk full of scuba gear and something that looked unsettlingly like the boot version of the resurrection glove, but nothing that could be useful. He was so engrossed in his search that he didn't hear the door open.

"Jack Harkness," he heard the voice behind him say. "What the hell are you doing?"


	4. Chapter 4

Jack turned slowly. Martha was standing in the doorway of the TARDIS, looking furious.

"How did you find me?" he asked, trying to keep his voice from shaking.

"Triangulated the cell phone signal," she said briskly, crossing the grating toward him. "We were looking for the Doctor. Imagine my surprise when I let myself into the TARDIS and find _you_."

"I can explain," he said quickly.

"You'd better," she said firmly. "You can start by telling us where the Doctor is. I've been trying to get hold of him for _weeks_."

Jack pointed outside. "Did you happen to see those? He's dealing with them."

Martha crossed her arms over her chest. "Without his sonic screwdriver?"

Jack looked down at his hands; he had forgotten that he was still holding onto it. "Look. We've got bigger problems right now." He brushed past her, heading for the door.

"Where do you think you're going?" she cried, turning to follow.

"To stop those things!" He raced outside, Martha at his heels. They spotted Gwen out in the alley.

"Jack!" she sputtered, running up to him. "Where have you been? We've been worried about you!"

"No time," he said, marching back out onto the street. "We've got to find out what those things are. What are they doing?"

"We aren't getting any activity from them yet," said Gwen, falling into step beside him. "No readings. They're not doing anything -- they're just… hovering there."

Jack looked up. There were so many of them that they were blocking out the sun. There was no way he could deal with this himself, but he had to. He just had to.

"Jack! Jack!" John was running toward him. He looked terrified.

"Doctor!" cried Martha brightly. "Thank God you're–"

"Jack!" John stumbled up to him panting and threw his arms around him. "Where have you _been_? There are real live spaceships up there." He took a few steps back and stared at the sky. "Can you believe it? Actual aliens!"

"Doctor?" Martha blinked in confusion. "Are you all right?"

"I told you to stay inside," said Jack urgently, placing a hand on John's shoulder. "Come on. We're working on it. Let's go back inside."

John looked confused. "Who's we?" Then, he seemed to see Gwen and Martha for the first time. "Oh, hello! Do you work with Jack? I'm John Smith, I'm, er, a friend of Jack's."

Martha frowned.

Gwen reached out to shake John's hand. "I'm Gwen Cooper. It's nice to meet you. Jack's told me a bit about you."

"Oh, has he then? Brilliant." He beamed, apparently not seeing the glare Gwen shot Jack over his shoulder. "And you are?" He looked at Martha expectantly.

"I don't believe you," Martha hissed at Jack. "_This_ is the nice bloke you met on holiday?"

John raised an eyebrow.

"_This_ is Martha Jones," said Jack firmly. "I used to work with her."

John smiled. "How do you do? You look familiar. Have we met before?"

Martha shook John's hand. "No, I don't think so," she said, clearly struggling to keep her composure. "Maybe I just have one of those faces."

"We should go inside," said John. "These things." He pointed to the sky. "I don't want to be out here when they start doing… whatever it is that they're going to do." He grabbed Jack's hand and practically dragged him back toward the building. Gwen and Martha followed them, talking to each other in hushed tones.

"Nice place you've got here," said Gwen, as John let them into the flat. "It's wonderful that they keep these old buildings in such good repair." The expression on her face did not match the polite small talk she was making with John.

"Can I get you ladies some tea?" asked John.

"Tea would be lovely," said Martha quickly.

"Do you need some help?" Gwen asked, following John into the kitchen. As soon as they were out of earshot, Martha whirled on Jack.

"Start explaining," she said. "Now."

Jack held up his hands defensively. "It's not how it looks."

"Oh?" said Martha. "Because I think it looks rather bad."

"I ran into him a couple weeks ago," Jack continued. "At the seaside. We spent a lot of time together -- I was just keeping an eye on him, while he's... you know."

"It didn't look like you were just keeping an eye on him."

Jack winced. "Yeah, listen, I can really explain. He's a different man -- you should see him! He's so alive, he's–"

"I know how it is, Jack." She looked at him seriously. "I've been there, remember. You can't just..." She shook her head. "You know he's not supposed to be like this."

Jack looked down at his feet and put his hands in his pockets. "Yeah," he admitted. His hand closed around the watch and he withdrew it.

"We've got to find the watch," Martha was saying. "We've got to bring him back. It was nice of you to keep an eye on him, but–" Her eyes were drawn to Jack's hand. He unclenched his fist. "No," she whispered. She looked up at him, in shock. "You _didn't_."

Jack closed his eyes.

"Jack, you can't have." She sounded close to tears. "Do you know what you did?"

"Of course I do," he hissed.

"And when were you planning to let him change back?" She put her hands on her hips when he didn't answer. "The world needs the Doctor more than you need a shag," she said coldly.

"I did it to make him _happy_. He deserves to be happy."

"He's not happy," said Martha gently. "Not like this. It's not his real life."

Jack looked away from her. "It feels real."

"But it's not," said Martha softly, placing a hand on Jack's arm. "He doesn't exist. John Smith isn't real."

Suddenly, the sound of breaking ceramic startled them. John and Gwen were standing in the doorway. John had dropped the two mugs of tea he had been holding. "Jack," he whispered, his voice shaking.

Jack ran to him and pulled him into his arms. "Come on," he said, leading him over to the couch. "Sit down."

"Jack," said Martha warningly. "You'd better do it now."

"Do what now?" asked John nervously, looking at her. "What are you talking about?"

"Nothing," said Jack gently, brushing his hair back and kissing him on the forehead.

"Come on, Jack," said Gwen. "We're in a bit over our heads here."

"What's she going on about?" asked John irritably. "You can't just come waltzing into our flat and–"

"Jack, there are things out there, and we don't know what they are, but we need the Doctor." Martha's voice was desperate now.

"The Doctor," whispered John. "The Doctor." He looked at Jack. "That's the man in my dreams, Jack. The Doctor."

Jack put an arm around John's shoulders. "I know. It's okay. He's just a dream."

"Jack," said Martha. "Come on!"

"Is this a dream?" asked John. He buried his head in his hands. "Oh, Jack, I'm going mad."

"No," said Jack fiercely, pulling him into his arms. "This is real, John."

"Don't lie to him, Jack," said Gwen gently. "You know what you have to do."

Jack lifted the watch up and looked at it.

"It's real, isn't it?" John murmured into Jack's chest. "My dreams, they're real."

Gwen and Martha exchanged glances. "I think we'll step outside," said Gwen quickly. "And check on the… the ships. Maybe they're getting something back at the Hub."

Jack watched them go and waited for the door to shut before he said anything.

"The man in my dreams is real," said John, pulling back. It wasn't a question. He ran a hand through his hair. "This Doctor, he's the real me."

Jack didn't say anything. He looked down at the watch in his hands.

"And you knew," said John. "You knew I was this man -- you called me Doctor when we first met, I remember -- and you didn't say anything."

Jack looked up. "I'm sorry, I–"

"No, don't be sorry," said John slowly. "You knew I was this terrible man, and yet you still… you still…"

"You're not terrible," said Jack, kissing him on the temple. "You're not." He hugged him tight. "You are _not_ terrible. Not the Doctor, not John Smith."

"John Smith doesn't exist." His eyes were full of tears. "I've known that for a while, I think, but I couldn't let it go, because I had you."

Jack was silent.

"What's happening out there -- would the Doctor be able to stop it?"

Jack paused and then nodded.

John reached over and plucked the watch from Jack's hands. "He comes back if I open this watch."

Jack nodded again.

"And I'll be erased."

"Yes."

"You'd let me do that?" John held up the watch, examining it, seeming to see it for the first time. His voice was shaking.

"I…"

"Do you want me to?" He looked seriously at Jack. There was a crash outside and he jumped. He asked the question again, not even trying to fight his tears. "Do you want me to change back?"

"No." Jack shook his head. John threw his arms around him

"I love you," John breathed into his ear. "I love you and this man… the Doctor, he doesn't. He left you behind." He took a deep breath. "And you'd let me switch back?"

Jack nodded. "The world needs the Doctor," he murmured, swallowing hard.

John pulled back. He surveyed the flat, his gaze falling first on the mess of papers for the proof he'd never finish, on all the simple, mundane possessions of the ordinary human life that he'd never really had. He reached out and took Jack's hand in his, entwining their fingers. "Hold my hand?" he asked, turning to look Jack in the eyes. "Until it's over?"

"Of course," Jack whispered back.

John nodded. He leaned forward and kissed Jack fiercely, tangling his fingers in his hair. When they broke apart, he took Jack's hand with his left and picked up the watch with his right.

"Thank you," he whispered to Jack. Jack blinked back tears. "These past weeks have been everything to me. I love you."

Jack leaned forward to brush his lips against John's one last time. "I love you, too," he murmured.

"What's going to happen?" John asked nervously, thumbing the watch. "Is it going to hurt?"

"I don't know," said Jack honestly. "But I'm here."

John nodded. He took a deep breath and popped the watch open.

**

The next thing Jack knew, he was lying alone on the couch. He sat bolt upright, kicking off the afghan that was covering him. John… the Doctor was gone. The watch was lying open on the coffee table. Absently, he shut it and stuck it back in his pocket.

Jack struggled to remember the last thing that had happened -- he remembered John opening the watch, but nothing after that. Had the Doctor done something to him? So he wouldn't have to deal with me, he realized.

Shakily, he got to his feet, grabbed his coat from the back of the door and shrugged it on. There was no noise coming from outside. He opened the kitchen window and looked out. The ships were gone from the sky; several hours must have passed. The sun was setting. It was hard to believe it had all happened so quickly.

"Jack!" He jumped. Gwen was standing in the street below, looking up at him. "Are you okay?"

He took a deep breath. He definitely didn't feel okay. "Sure," he called. "You want me down there?"

"It could help, yeah."

When Jack got outside, Martha had joined Gwen. "It was really nothing," she was saying. "It was just a big understanding." She laughed nervously. "They… they do these sort of Olympics, this was all set-up for it, they didn't realize anyone lived here. We just… went up there and told them, me and the Doctor." She was eyeing Jack apprehensively, as if expecting him to break down any second.

Jack closed his eyes. He felt glad that it hadn't been a serious threat, but to some degree, he felt disappointed that such a (relatively) minor incident had been the reason he'd lost John. "So he's okay?" he asked her finally.

"Why wouldn't I be?"

Jack's head snapped around. The Doctor was leaning casually against the side of the TARDIS, his hands in his pockets. He'd changed his clothes, Jack noted.

Jack shrugged. "Who knows? Your Time Lord technology -- way beyond me."

"I'm going to go call Rhys," said Gwen quickly. "Let him know I'm all right."

"Me too," said Martha. "I mean, I'll be calling Tom, but…" She looked at Gwen and the two of them hurried off.

Jack didn't look at the Doctor's face.

"Funny thing, Time Lord technology," said the Doctor casually. "It's very thorough."

"So I noticed."

The Doctor grinned. "I know." He tapped his chest. "I had one heart -- and I saw you, you kept checking." He laughed.

Jack felt his ears burn. "Can I go now?" he asked irritably. He had braced himself for anger, he had braced himself for coldness, but he hadn't expected the Doctor to _laugh_ at him.

"No," said the Doctor. "As a matter of fact, you can't go. Because we need to talk." He pushed off from the side of the TARDIS and went around to open the doors. "I'm sure you'll begrudge me that, considering we've been doing a lot more than talking lately." He pulled the door open and went inside.

Jack didn't move. The Doctor strode over to him and placed a finger under his chin, turning his head to face him. "Talk," he said, letting the word drop between them. "You and me. In the TARDIS. Or in a restaurant. Or on Barcelona, for all I care, but we. Have. To talk."

"Okay." Jack yanked the Doctor's hand away from his face. "Get off me."

The Doctor raised an eyebrow. "How quickly they change," he observed. He stepped into the TARDIS. Jack followed.

"I don't need this from you now," said Jack.

The Doctor turned, his coat snapping and went to fool with the controls on the console, casually stepping over the mess Jack had made earlier. "And what is it you want from me now, Jack? Maybe another snog?"

"I'm going," said Jack, turning. The doors slammed. Jack whipped around again. "What the hell are you doing?" he barked.

"Making you talk." The Doctor leaned over the console, giving Jack quite a view.

"Take me back," Jack ordered.

"Make me."

"Martha and Gwen–"

"Know where we are," said the Doctor, clearly quite pleased with his own cleverness.

Jack ran an exasperated hand through his hair. "If I ask you where you're taking me, will you tell me?"

The Doctor turned to look at Jack and grinned, slamming his hand down on the final button to make the TARDIS dematerialize. "Nope!"

Jack sighed and sank down onto the grating. This was going to be a long night.


End file.
